Josh Freed’s guide to surviving winter

After years of wimpy weather, old-fashioned winter is back and we need to remember our traditional Canadian survival skills — like car-pushing, snowbank leaping, and walking carefully in the tire tracks on our street because they haven’t plowed our sidewalks.

If you’re out of practice, here’s a quick remedial guide to surviving real winter.

Dressing: Looking cool just means being cold. It’s best to dress like they do for daycare, in snow pants and giant boots, with a scarf round your mouth. Also acceptable are those new systems of 15 lightweight layers, though they haven’t found a replacement for the chilly inner layer known as human skin.

Real winter is dangerous, so it’s wise to think ahead. In recent wimpy winters I’ve driven to my Wednesday night tennis game in light sweats and sneakers, then parked by the tennis club door. But last week when I tried that, I came home at 11 p.m. to find my street plastered in no-parking signs.

I had to park 13 blocks away and almost died of exposure running home in the minus-23 temperature. On the plus side, I could run fast in my sneakers.

Getting around: After prying open your car’s frozen doors and pounding the crusty ice off your windshield, don’t forget to clean the giant cake of snow off your car roof. Otherwise it may fly backwards while you’re driving and smack into the windshield of the driver behind you, blinding him just as he’s sending a text message — and causing him to spill his coffee into his lap.

Bus commuters should get to their stop the last second before its scheduled arrival so they don’t have to freeze. But don’t come a second late, because unlike in summer you can’t chase after the bus when you’re wearing 53 pounds of clothing and run like the Michelin man.

Winter instincts: Neanderthal Man was programmed to leap at the roar of the saber-toothed tiger; today it’s the banshee cry of the snow-removal siren that triggers terror deep in the Canadian DNA.

You usually don’t expect it because the city hasn’t cleaned your street for a week, hoping to make you careless — then it surreptitiously puts up signs at dusk when you aren’t looking. Finally, after precisely the four hours legally required, its tow trucks arrive to hunt your car down.

Relax — and let your old winter instincts kick in. Suddenly you’ll be sprinting down the hallway, yanking on your coat and racing onto the street in your slippers to narrowly beat the tow trucks to your car.

Leap inside the car and hurriedly scrape the frost off the inner windshield with your warm bare hand, till there’s a two-inch clear spot you can almost see through. Then head off to search your neighbourhood for a parking spot, competing with all your neighbours who heard the siren too.

After driving around for 20 minutes you’ll spy a small, ice-encrusted “spot” someone has excavated out of a giant snowbank. It’s just big enough for a Toyota Tercel — but you have an SUV — so plow into it at a 45-degree angle, at 45 kilometres an hour.

You’ll worry about getting out tomorrow, if the snowplow hasn’t passed and sealed you in, or the Onions haven’t ticketed you for “sloppy parking.”

Once you’ve parked, carefully patrol the block again, studying each no-parking sign intently. Many people suffer from an outdoor version of “male fridge blindness” where you don’t see that one bright orange snow-removal sign — just like you don’t see the pickles in the fridge until your wife peeks in and points them out right before your eyes

But miss the sign instead of the pickles and you may not see your car for three days.

Winter for beginners: For teenagers experiencing their first real winter, there are other harrowing realizations. The sneakers you’ve worn in recent winters are as effective as sandals at minus-20, so you may have to wear snow boots, along with mitts that makes you look 6.

Worse, it’s too cold to use your cellphone, surf the net or change iPod tunes so you have to listen to the same music over and over. You can’t even text your friends or go on Facebook, so you’re out there on your own — forced to look right at actual people, maybe even talk to them.

Don’t freak. They’ve already invented winter cellphone gloves with special thin material on the thumbs that lets you type in the cold. You can bet this will be the hottest item in teenage apparel if this real winter continues.

Frankly I find I’m enjoying real winter so far, so long as spring comes when it did last year — in February.

Comments

We encourage all readers to share their views on our articles and blog posts. We are committed to maintaining a lively but civil forum for discussion, so we ask you to avoid personal attacks, and please keep your comments relevant and respectful. If you encounter a comment that is abusive, click the "X" in the upper right corner of the comment box to report spam or abuse. We are using Facebook commenting. Visit our FAQ page for more information.

Almost Done!

Postmedia wants to improve your reading experience as well as share the best deals and promotions from our advertisers with you. The information below will be used to optimize the content and make ads across the network more relevant to you. You can always change the information you share with us by editing your profile.

By clicking "Create Account", I hearby grant permission to Postmedia to use my account information to create my account.

I also accept and agree to be bound by Postmedia's Terms and Conditions with respect to my use of the Site and I have read and understand Postmedia's Privacy Statement. I consent to the collection, use, maintenance, and disclosure of my information in accordance with the Postmedia's Privacy Policy.

Postmedia wants to improve your reading experience as well as share the best deals and promotions from our advertisers with you. The information below will be used to optimize the content and make ads across the network more relevant to you. You can always change the information you share with us by editing your profile.

By clicking "Create Account", I hearby grant permission to Postmedia to use my account information to create my account.

I also accept and agree to be bound by Postmedia's Terms and Conditions with respect to my use of the Site and I have read and understand Postmedia's Privacy Statement. I consent to the collection, use, maintenance, and disclosure of my information in accordance with the Postmedia's Privacy Policy.